


Introductions - Meet Sean

by morgan_cian



Series: Story Snippets [6]
Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:47:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan_cian/pseuds/morgan_cian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet snippet</p>
            </blockquote>





	Introductions - Meet Sean

Sean Flannigan started his morning like every other morning since he moved to the city. Fresh from the academy, he knew that he would have to keep in shape. His feet slapped pavement, his muscles warmed, and his lungs burned. Five miles as the sun came up, the air never quite cool steadily moving to heavy as he made the final stretch to his apartment.

Checking the mail slots, he carried his and his neighbors up the rickety flight of stairs.

“Mail, Mrs. G.” He called with a gentle rap to the door across the hall from his own. Mrs. Gerhardt, widowed, opened the door with snowy white hair and ratty pink robe.

“I’ve told you time and time again, son, you are much too good for me.” The soft wrinkles of her face stretched as her lips pulled upward in a smile.

“Never, ma’am,” Sean replied, “Because one day you are going to let me sweep you off your feet for a life of leisure.”

Mrs. Gerhardt laughed and shooed him with her stack of mail. “I’ll hold you to that when you convince me that you could keep me in luxury on a cop’s salary.”

Sean shrugged good-naturedly and made his way into his own Spartan apartment. He read the letters from his mother and his cousin from Ireland, standing over his sink to catch the crumbs from his toast. Wolfing down a bowl of cereal and a glass a juice, he rinsed the dishes and set them on the drainer to dry. He grabbed a banana on the way to his room.

Running worked up an appetite.

After a quick shower, he looked over his uniform critically, using the lent brush and then ironed sharp creases in his pants and the short sleeves of summer. Keys and wallet, phone and badge, and finally his side arm, he looked himself over. Tall and rangy, with a narrow face, sharp cheekbones, and a nose that was a tad too long, and plain blue eyes. The cap sat sharp and straight, centered from his forehead to his chin.

Making sure his apartment was secure, his lips twitched up at Mrs. G whistle that followed him down the stairs once more.

*~*

The station house on Roosevelt was a welcome sight after his walk in the sun that was just beginning to show its teeth. The air indoors was somewhat cooler with the scent of disinfectant warring with stale coffee.

Trading waves and nods to his fellow uniforms, Sean made his way to the assignment board. He was not expecting anything different from his normal patrol that took him from the shantytown to squatter’s row. It was not too bad. Mostly domestic disturbances and moving the forgotten to shelters if they were available. He blew a breath through his nose at the pang in his chest, the length of time on the job did not take away the bruising affect of those who needed help and could not get it to those who refused help and continued on a downward spiral.

“Flan.”

His Commander's voice caused him to start slightly. Feeling the heat in his ears, he turned and very nearly saluted. 

“At ease, Officer.” Commander Allie Landeau gave him a soft look that could only be called maternal. The heat in his ears spread across his cheeks. He let the quiet snorts of laughter pass.

Blasted Irish fair skin, he cursed mentally.

“In my office.”

He followed his Commander, but felt a ball of nerves in his gut. All of his reports were on time, as were case reflections that were not required. After closing the door, Captain Landeau took her seat behind the old battered desk and motioned for him to do the same in one of the mismatched chairs that stood across from her.

“You are not in trouble, Flan, so relax,” Landeau said mildly. Sean tried, he really did. But the quirk of a dark brow had his breathe expelling in a whoosh.

Another rosy flush, Sean ducked his head, “Yes, Commander.”

“You’ll want to know why you are here instead of getting your assignment off the board. It’s bad news for me,” when Sean’s head snapped up, Landeau waved him off, “but great news for you, kid. You are getting moved up to the big house to work as an aide to a detective.”

Sean’s mouth went dry. There were protests as well as adulations that he kept firmly behind his teeth.

“You do well with your training, you will be given the opportunity to take the detective’s exam.”

“So soon?” Sean asked hoarsely.

“You shine, kid, what can we say?”

Sean heard the creak of the door opening. He heard a voice of whiskey and gravel say “Commander.” He stood slowly with cap under his arm and came face to face with his new boss.

Rapid-fire images burned into his brain. Dark hair that curled at the collar, bright green eyes surround by age lines, jacket tucked over a tanned arm, the lean curve of bicep.

“Detective Ryan, meet Sean Flannigan.”

Aw hell.


End file.
